Drabble Here, Prompt There
by blackgirlfairy
Summary: A collection of drabbles, prompts, and miscellaneous writings I've created for We're The Ones Who Write. Usually Richonne but some Carchonne/Grimes 2.0 thrown in as well. Will be perpetually marked as "finished" but will be updated as more fics are written and completed.
1. Play Time

**This fic will be perpetually marked as "finished." It is a compilation of all of the prompts and drabbles I write and fill for the We're The Ones Who Write group on tumblr. Make sure you drop by and check us out!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Her muscles strained, slender limbs aching as she lay stretched out on the table.

"Go ahead," Rick said, leaning back in the chair situated between her legs. "You spent all that money on it and I want to see you fuck yourself with it."

Michonne sighed and pushed the bulbous head of the dildo into her sopping pussy, thrusting shallowly.

He was unsatisfied. "Deeper."

They both moaned as she bottomed out and fucked herself harder. Minutes later, she came, soaking the toy and the table.

"Move over," he leaned in, his lips almost touching her clit. "It's my turn now.


	2. Naughty Fantasy

_**Question: What's a naughty fantasy you have about me?**_

* * *

They lay languidly, lithe bodies stretched out on top of their duvet-less bed. It was hot, scorching really. With the Georgian summer sun shining relentlessly through their bedroom window. The central air had been working overtime for hours, but Michonne also insisted on putting the old school box fan up next to their bed. Even still, the only way to truly stay cool was to stay still.

"Wait, what?" Michonne giggled almost deliriously, her fingers tracing Rick's bulging bicep. "You cannot be serious, Rick."

"As a heart attack," her husband answered. "Right after we met for the first time. I couldn't stop thankin' about it actually. You dressed up in one of them tiny little dresses, takin' care of me, fixin' me up, givin' me sponge baths."

She couldn't help but laugh as she gave the skin on his arm a sharp, good-natured pinch. "That is such a corny fantasy. I can't even believe it. Besides, it's 2018, nurses haven't worn dresses in decades."

"Hey," Rick exclaimed, dropping a sharp retaliating bite on Michonne's shoulder. "That ain't fair. No judging my fantasies. Yours probably ain't that much better, anyway."

Michonne snorted confidently. "I wouldn't bank on that, baby."

He sat up a bit, leaning his upper body on one arm as he looked down at his beautiful wife. "Is that right?"

"Yep," Michonne replied. "My fantasies blow yours out of the damn water."

Rick's hands strayed. Roaming down her slender neck, over her braless breasts and around her bare waist, prompting her to scoot her body closer to his. "Tell me one then," he requested, his voice deepening as he spoke into her ear. "What's a naughting fantasy you have about me?"

"Hmm…Let me think." Michonne chuckled, pretending to contemplate as her husband's confident, calloused hand traced her belly button. She knew exactly what fantasy she planned to bring up. It was the one she pulled to the front of her mind every time Rick went away on a business trip or when she was home alone and especially needy.

"Sometimes, I like to imagine that we're strangers," she started. "And we're both on a train. I'm not sure where we're headed, maybe somewhere in the English countryside or the South of France." Michonne's breathing hitched as Rick's hands roamed her skin even further. Up and up and up until his fingertips met the edge of the tank top she had pushed up just under her tits. "The train car we're in is only about halfway full and you're sitting across from me. You're reading a newspaper or something but you keep taking peeks at me when you think I'm not looking."

Rick's hand cupped her left breast, squeezing just as bit. Then, he leaned down and sucked her pebbled nipple through her thin top. Michonne felt her pussy flood and hum as his teeth grazed and his tongue licked.

"Keep goin', Chonne," he demanded as he moved to do the same with the other.

"Um…" She stared, breath shaky. "It turns me on that you keep staring so I decide to give you a little peek and the next time you look up, I open my legs a little and show you. Only, I don't have any panties on, so you just see my bare pussy."

"Hmmm…You know I like you ready for the takin' at all times."

"Yes," Michonne moaned as Rick's deft fingers slid under her lace panties, feeling her bare, dewy pussy lips before dipping in to her juicy center. "Fuck yes." He fucked into her as deep as his fingers would let him, then he pulled out to circle her clit, coating it in her honey.

"I know that ain't it, I want to hear the rest." He moved down on the bed, positioning himself between her quivering brown thighs. "Don't stop until it's finished."

It took her a few moments to gather her thoughts as her husband pushed the gusset of her panties to the side and ran that magical tongue between her lips. On instinct, she reached down to grasp at his curls.

Rick bit the inside of her thigh. "Didn't I tell you to finish?"

Michonne let out a gushing moan. "I…I keep letting you look at my pussy. You know, crossing and uncrossing my legs and stuff. At one point I even stand up to grab something from the overhead compartment, put it on my seat and bend over in front of you so you can see all of me. All wet and ready for you."

He moaned into her pussy. Expressing pleasure at the dirty admission while sending small vibrations into her clit that made her gush into his mouth. Michonne's fingers tightened in his hair as she lightly canted her hips up, gently fucking his face as she became more and more eager to come.

"And then…And then after a little while longer, I give you a look and head to the bathroom. You follow me a little while later and press me up against the door." Rick slid two fingers into her tight heat, the sounds of her pussy sloshing wetly made both of them pant.

"You don't even say anything to me," she said. "You just raise my dress up and fuck into me. And the whole time I'm just clutching onto your shoulders. Taking you just as good as I always do until we both come." Michonne got the words our just seconds before she ascended. Her pussy tightening around Rick's fingers, her juices flooding his mouth. Thighs shaking, muscles straining she came down breathlessly, lightly playing in her husband's hair.

She got no time to calm down before he descended on her again though. Rick raised up, pushing his boxer briefs down. "I want you to show me how good you always take me for real," he said. "Now get on your hands and knees for me, baby."


	3. First Heartbreak (Carchonne)

_**First Heartbreak / Carchonne**_

* * *

Michonne glanced at the clock on her dashboard for what seemed like the hundredth time. Just like every other weekday she'd been waiting semi-patiently for her son outside of King County High School since 2:10 p.m. Usually, Carl made his way from his 6th period class, to his locker, and out to her car in just a few minutes. But as the clock neared closer to 2:30, she began to worry. As the final school bus drove away from the building, Michonne finally began considering shooting him a lightly concerned text. But before she could grab her phone from its place in the cupholder, she saw him. Sulking towards the car with his head down, his broadening shoulders drawn, and his long brown locks covering his face, her Carl looked utterly defeated.

Unlike the usual greeting he gave her, Carl said nothing as he threw his book bag in the backseat before sliding into the passenger side and buckling himself up.

"Hey kid," Michonne greeted softly as she watched the 15-year-old gaze from the window into the overcast sky. "How was your day?"

Carl shrugged, refusing to look at her.

Instead of pulling off, Michonne settled in her seat more, determined to talk to her boy. "Is it because of that math quiz? It's alright if you didn't do as well as we thought you would, your dad and I know you studied hard for that."

"I got a 90 on the quiz," Carl voiced softly. His head leaning against the window, closely pressed up against the fogging glass with his eyes closed. He looked to be in physical pain and it caused Michonne to panic a little.

"Well are you sick? You got a fever? Stomach ache?"

"No mom," he huffed. "I'm fine."

Michonne unbuckled her seatbelt and shifted her body towards him. She reached out one perfectly manicured hand and stroked a finger down his soft cheek the way she used to do when he was young. Then, she gently grasped his chin and turned his face towards her. "I know my Carl and I know when you're not fine. Tell me what's wrong."

Finally, he opened his eyes. Just like his father's, they were an open book, showcasing every ounce of pain he was feeling. She moved her hand from his chin and used the fingers to sweep his hair away from his face. "What is it, honey?" She asked softly. "How can fix it if you won't tell me what's wrong?

"You can't fix it ok," she could see the surprise on his own face at his slightly forceful tone. She decided to let it slide.

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean I don't want to try."

Carl remained silent for a few moments then swallowed harshly, breaking under his mother's gaze. "You remember that girl I told you about? Mia Flores?"

Michonne nodded. His first day of sophomore year, Carl had come home with a grin that stretched towards both ears and a mouth full of compliments about how smart and funny and pretty Mia Flores was. In the months since, he'd spoken of her no less than a thousand times. She and Rick had been enthusiastic but respectful. They'd tried to encourage him to try and pursue something with her without pushing him too hard. Her stomach dropped at the possibility of Carl being rejected in a place as publicly traumatising as a high school.

Carl's eyes dropped into his lap. "I didn't tell you and dad because I didn't know if I was going to have the nerve to actually do it but I asked her out last week…"  
Michonne placed one of her hands on his shoulder. It took everything in her to stay silent and let him finish his story instead of jumping to comfort him.

"…And she said yes."

She couldn't help herself from letting out a small, surprised gasp. Not because her son wasn't a catch, but because she hadn't been expecting good news. "Carl that's amazing. What's with the long face then? Did you think dad and I wouldn't be supportive?"

"No, it's not that," he voiced softly. "I knew you and dad wouldn't care. I was goin' to ask if you guys could take us to the movies and for pizza this weekend…"

"Of course we will, Carl."

Michonne's panic rose as she heard him sniffle in response.

"But today she told me her mom and dad are getting back together so they're moving back in with him in Savannah. She told me that she doesn't want to go on the date now because she doesn't want to start a long distance relationship. She doesn't even want to stay friends."

"Oh, Carl," Michonne breathed her sympathy, her heart breaking for her son. "I'm so sorry, honey."

He looked up at her, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. "I know I'm bein' stupid, we didn't even go out. I just like her so much, more than I've ever liked any other girl. And I didn't even get a chance to be with her. Not even for a little while. I just feel…I feel like I'm never goin' to be happy again. I'm never goin' to find another girl as cool or pretty as Mia."

Her hand was back in his hair again, soothingly running through his silky locks.

"How you feel is never stupid, Carl. Especially not now. You liked Mia a lot, and it's ok to be sad about losing her. Anyone would be sad about that."

She grasped his quivering chin again, tilting his head up to face her. "You can be sad about Mia for as long as you need to, but I don't ever want you to think that you won't find someone else. You're a sweet, smart, handsome, incredible young man. Any girl would be more than lucky to have you, and it won't be long before they start realizing it and beating our front door down for a chance to get at you."

He nodded then cracked a small, toothy smile. "You think so?"

"I'd bet money on it. Big bucks. We're talking…tens of dollars ," Michonne answered. "We might even have to install three more deadbolts just to keep them out."

Carl reached out and laced his slim fingers in hers, squeezing just the tiniest bit. They sat there quietly for a moment. Michonne looking at her son fondly and Carl contemplating his mother's words.

Finally, the teenager leaned over and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. "I love you, mom."

"I love you too, my sweet boy." Then, she cleared her throat. She knew Carl wasn't fully healed from his first heartbreak, but she hoped she'd been able to reassure him. "Dad and Judith are at home waiting for us to bring home dinner," she continued. "What do you say we blow them off for a little bit and go get some ice cream?"

"Mint chip with marshmallow fluff and nuts?" Carl asked excitedly, looking so much like the young, precocious child who'd stormed into her life so many years ago and stolen her heart.

Michonne turned her nose up in mock disgust. "Fine, but when your stomach hurts from the deadly combination later, don't think I'm going to be behind you holding your hair back while you yak it up."

Carl let out a hearty laugh, already looking less burdened. "Liar."


	4. In the Club

She was a mewling, desperate thing.

"Fuck," she whimpered. "Please, Rick, please."

A dirty bassline beat harshly through the packed club, it made her vibrate and shiver.

"Not yet."

He palmed her ass, holding her still as she straddled his lap. Her juices dripped all over his straining dick.

A growl left her as she tried, unsuccessfully, to drop down on him. "I need it, baby. So bad."

"You'll get it when I'm ready to give it to you."

The music swelled and he released his tight grip. Her moan was loud and triumphant as he finally filled her.


	5. Date Night

_**I ask you to dress me for our date night, which outfit of mine would you pick?**_

* * *

Locs piled high up on her head and a silk pink robe covering her naked body, Michonne ruffled through her stash clothes in the large walk-in closet she shared with her husband. They'd been swamped by work and the kids for months. But she and Rick were finally resuming their Saturday date nights. Dinner at a chic Greek restaurant then drinks and dancing at a new-age speakeasy in downtown Atlanta.

Their expectations were incredibly high and Michonne was eager to make the night as perfect as possible. But as she searched through her clothes completely unsatisfied with what she saw, her excitement turned into frustration. None of the garments she came across seemed like a good fit for the evening's festivities. Too risque for the restaurant, too demure for the club, finding a good balance felt impossible.

She picked a slim fitting red dress that fell below the knee off the rack. Hearing her husband poking around in their en-suite bathroom, she called out to him. "Rick! Can you come here a minute?"

He appeared in seconds, making her mouth water at the sight of him barefoot, clad only in a pair of unbuttoned dark dress pants. "Yeah, baby?"

She held the dress up to her body, giving him a hopeful look. "What do you think?"

Rick tilted his head to the side, his blue eyes raking up and down her body. "Don't you wear that to work?"

Michonne rolled her eyes, huffing as she shoved the dress back in its place in the closet. "I don't know what to wear," the whine she let out was nearly childish.

Her husband chuckled. "All these damn clothes and you don't know what to wear?"

"It's easier for you," she said. "You have four nice shirts, it's not like you have to put much thought into dressing up when we go out."

"And you've got an endless amount of choices. It shouldn't be that hard."

Michonne narrowed her eyes at his comment. "Okay, smartass, since it's so easy, you choose. Let's say I ask you to dress me for our date night, which outfit of mine would you pick?"

She watched as Rick stalked closer to her side of the closet, the muscles in his chest and shoulders stretching and bunching deliciously. Michonne never got tired of admiring her husband's impressive form. He was raw, and open, and masculine in a way that almost made her want to abandon their plans to spend the night in bed with him instead - almost.

"Hmmm," instead of ruffling through the clothes like she had done, Rick came up behind her, his large, warm hands on her waist. "I think I want you in somethin' sexy."

Rick's thick drawl echoed in her ear as his hands strayed from her waist to the tie holding her dark robe together. Deftly, he pulled one end of tied bow, making her release a small gasp. Her nipples pebbled as they were exposed to the chilled air. Her husband's hands roamed her skin, moving from her waist and up her sides. He ran a roughened finger along her protruding collar bones before it traced along the tops of her breasts.

"You know how much I love these," he said, his light touches making her shiver. "Wear somethin' that lets me get a peek at them all night." Both of his hands were touching her now, his light touches becoming firm as he cupped her tits, thumbs rubbing her dark, pebbled nipples. "Don't show off everythang though, I don't want anybody seein' too much of what's mine."

Michonne laid her head back on his shoulder, silently prompting him to run his nose and lips along her slim neck. "How about I wear a bodysuit," she said softly. "That red one you like with the flowy sleeves that plunges in the front."

Rick made a noise of approval as his hands descended down her body again. She missed the feeling of him touching his nipples, but she hoped his next destination would be even more delicious.

"If you wear a bodysuit, you don't need to wear any panties." His fingers danced along the very top of her mons, right along the line her panties should have started.

"I didn't know that was the rule," she laughed.

"Absolutely. You won't need a bra or panties with the outfit I have planned," the fingers moved again, right through the strip of curls she kept trimmed above her slit. "You should be happy about that, less to take off later."

Both of them moaned when his digits finally dipped between her pussy lips. Michonne's teeth chattered as he circled her pulsing little clit before collecting a bit of her honey from her entrance to wet her up further. She widened her stance and Rick wrapped an arm around her waist, clutching him to her to keep her from collapsing.

"That does sound good," she said, the sight of his fingers playing in her pussy spurring her on even more. "But what am I going to wear on the bottom? I can't just walk around in a bodysuit."

"A skirt," Rick growled, the finality in his town had her biting down on his bottom lip. "That short leather one you have that shows off your long, pretty legs and cups your ass."

"And heels?" Michonne moaned out the question as he thrusted two thick fingers into her.

"And heels," Rick clarified.

The wet, sloshing sound of her pussy filled the large space. She could feel the hard bulge of his dick pressing up against her ass, strong and insistent, but she could focus on nothing but chasing her own orgasm.

"Now hurry up and come all over my fingers. The sooner we leave, the sooner I can fuck you in that bodysuit and heels when we get home."

Seconds later, she tumbled over the edge. Clenching and gushing around his fingers as the promise of what was to come settled in her tightly coiled belly.


End file.
